


Lost and Found

by Apocalyptic_lipstick



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Child Abuse, I'm so sorry Al, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Sexual Abuse, also I'm the worst at summary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:57:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8939035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apocalyptic_lipstick/pseuds/Apocalyptic_lipstick
Summary: "But what if there's nothing here?" Alex asked, "How do you find something that never existed?"Miles Kane, a young psychologist, set out to bring the lost boy, Alex Turner, back into the world. Alex doubted if there's anything to be found at all.





	

“It’s ok. You can touch me”

Alex said as he sucked the tip of Miles’ finger, warm tongue licking down the sides as he slid the finger deeper into his mouth. The lithe frame of Alex’s body sat on top of him, legs wrapped on both sides and slowly grinding.

Miles’ breath hitched and he cursed himself.

“No” He heard himself said, and gently pushed Alex off.

Alex stared blankly at him.

“It’s really ok, really” Alex smiled reassuringly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I don’t mind. I just wanna thank-“

“This isn’t how you thank people”

For the first time that evening, something shifted in Alex’s face. Miles wasn’t sure he should be glad of the progress or feel bad that he might be hurting Alex’s feeling.

No. This is progress. He told himself. This is what he needs to learn.

“Oh,” Alex said quietly after a while, and like a switch being flipped on, the colour rose in his cheeks and he became flustered, “I…I am so sorry. I didn’t…oh god. I don’t know why I…I’m so very sorry”

And like that, Alex’s back. The real Alex.

“It’s alright, now, now” Miles patted his head and pulled him in a comforting hug as Alex fumbled to rearrange himself, still mumbling apologies.

Alex Turner, aged 22, had been what the clinical psychologists called, “The Perpetual Victim”. At 10 year old, after his parents were killed in a car accident, he was sent to a local foster home, and was sexually assaulted by one of the caretakers. After two years, the assault was discovered, in time for his first adoption by the Hommes family. It was a year after that the social worker went to check on him and discovered strange marks on his body. Joshua Homme was arrested the next day with hard drives filled with child pornography and account information on various underground websites. After being bounced between several foster homes due to his “undesirable behaviours” (or as Miles noted, the textbook-signs of traumatised personality after long-termed sexual assaults; unpredictability, paranoia, withdrawal from society, tendency to sexualise relationships), Alex had become of legal age and was sent to live on his own. With his love of reading, he found a job as a shopkeeper at a book store not too far from his last foster home. Eleven months later, Alex got involved in drug ring as he was trying to save a woman, Taylor Bagley, a regular at the book store, from being sold into prostitution. As it turned out, in order to stop someone from being sold, a replacement was needed, and it was Alex who was forced to fill in. Taylor died two weeks later in a police shooting after the mob had her worked as a drug runner. Alex stayed on for the next five years until the police cracked down the syndicate.

And now he’s sitting on Miles’ bed, fidgeting and apologising, his small frame looked like it shrank half the size as he kept his head down.

Miles reached for his shoulder, “Hey”

Alex jerked away from the contact, but didn’t moved away.

“Look at me” Miles said softly. Alex seemed reluctant at first but after a long pause, slowly turned towards Miles.

“It’s fine, ok? Look,” Miles sat up and gathered some pillows “Do you wanna sleep here tonight? I can keep you company. I’ll go sleep on the co-“

“I didn’t mean to do that” Alex blurted out, voice shaken, “I…I promise it won’t happen again”

Alex finally looked at him. The rim of his eyes were red and the tears were on the verge of falling. The unprofessional side of Miles wanted nothing more than to wrap him in his arms, whisper sweet comforting things to him, and protect him forever. The professional side of him cursed for the thousandth time this evening that it was yet the worse idea than the one before and that as the resident psychologist he should know better.

The professional side of him won. As always.

“We will talk tomorrow, yeah? In your session?” Miles smiled as he pulled the cover on Alex, “For now, just get some rest”

Alex nodded and mumbled the last audible “sorry”. Miles turned to the settee on the opposing wall and set himself up for the night. A text message flashed briefly on his phone.

_Hey, how’d it go? Any stories? - Zach_

Miles looked up at Alex. The cloaked shadow on the bed remained unmoving, but somehow seemed more relaxed than before.

_Nope. Pretty uneventful. Sorry to disappoint. - Miles_

_Damn. I was betting on having some good story to tell at the bar from my shrink friend. - Zach_

_Boo hoo. Poor you - Miles_

_Cam got some pretty cool stuff when he’s on shift at ER. Sorta expected more from a guy spending a night at a mental hospital - Zach_

_First of all, not a mental hospital. It’s a stabilising centre. And second of all, you’re a fucking dick - Miles_

_That I am ;) Have fun with the coo-coo - Zach_

_Piss off - Miles_

Miles set up the alarm on his phone. He noted the sound of Alex’s even breathing in the background and let out a relief sigh. At least one thing went right on his first night here.


End file.
